


wheeljack no

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: Megatron vanishes into his own subspace, then reappears, reality losing cohesion around him, the air around him twisting before a loud crack sounds - something breaks - reality recoils back from the Walther P38 as if repelled by its very presence -- and he's gone.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	wheeljack no

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I'm exorcising my writing folder. Here's another unfinished thing, this time from 2015. It's 13k of "what if wheeljack makes an invention that messes up and sends Megatron back in time, trapped in his altmode... to Earth, when Starscream and Skyfire are exploring it before a certain storm"
> 
> Once again my ideas overwhelmed me and I never finished this thing. I couldn't resolve how the time travel worked, nor could I figure out where to take it, as I wanted to keep G1's presence involved in it.
> 
> But, and here we are - it's unfinished. It will probably never be finished, unless you corner me on discord and force me to answer questions. You're welcome to try, but frankly, on my own this isn't going anywhere. If you read it - I hope you enjoy! I'm very proud of the interactions between Starscream and Skyfire. I think the humor works. I love the questions it raises.
> 
> If you don't read it - that's okay. I'll try to finish more things in the future.

"Well, you see, it's like this: remember when everyone got stuck in their altmodes and we had to invent the anti-transfixation grenade to save them? That gave me an idea: creating an anti-anti-transfixation grenade, and using it on the Decepticons! Yeah, I know, it's crazy, but as the humans say: it just might work!"

"Wheeljack, it's too risky. If that grenade of yours goes off before you've tossed it over to the Decepticons, we'll all get trapped this time."

"Ah, but I'm two steps ahead of you this time. I made another anti-transfixation grenade, and I set it to go off if this baby goes off nearby. So if we get trapped, we'll get instantly un-trapped. How's that for genius, eh?"

"That _might_ work."

"That's the spirit! Come on, let's go tell Prime about my plan."

//

"Aw, scrap."

The grenade doesn't detonate, bouncing harmlessly on the concrete. For a moment the scene is a perfect tableau: the scientist looking on at the failed experiment, the warlord shielding his optics from a potential blast.

Nothing continues to happen, so Megatron carefully lowers his out-thrown arm. Still no explosion. He levels his fusion cannon at the scientist, sneering. "Your homemade explosive appears to have had no effect! Unfortunately for you, I don't feel like giving you a second chance."

He fires as the scientist begins to turn to run. There's a brief flare of light as another explosive goes off, but despite the light show it's as harmless as the first.

"Wheeljack! Get out of there!"

Megatron fires as another brightly colored Autobot tackles his target out of the way, so he growls and tracks them both, firing repeatedly, temper growing with each missed shot. He advances across the concrete, channeling his fury into ever more accurate aim, and finally he lands a direct hit on one of the Autobots, sending them into a tailspin that ends with a car in an electrified fence.

Through the scream of pain and the sound of thousands of volts coursing through vulnerable circuits, Megatron hears a soft _tink._

He looks down.

It's the grenade from before.

It goes off as he throws himself back, hands flung up to protect his face, and this time the light isn't all show.

Megatron howls as pain overtakes his circuitry as his transformation sequence triggers without his consent, as his body folds in on itself, the enforced interactions with his subspace interacting weirdly with the charged particles in the air.

Something goes wrong.

Megatron vanishes into his own subspace, then reappears, reality losing cohesion around him, the air around him twisting before a loud crack sounds - something breaks - reality recoils back from the Walther P38 as if repelled by its very presence - 

\- and he's gone.

//

"Give it up, Skyfire. Sol-3 may have organic life, but none of it is intelligent. We're wasting our valuable time on this rock." Starscream raps his knuckles against Skyfire's interior. "Are you listening to me?"

"I am," Skyfire says in a tone Starscream knows means he's only been listening with half an audial. "I'd like to take a closer look at some of these species. Do you think you could help me take some samples?"

Starscream sits bolt upright, wings going rigid, mind flashing over the composition of the atmosphere, the abundance of moisture and airborne organic molecules. "You want me to fly in that - that _mess?"_

"And land on it," Skyfire says, EM field rippling amusement.

"No!" Starscream stands up, crossing to the scanner banks, peering at their displays, hoping for something, anything to come up on them and distract Skyfire. If he knows his shuttles - and he _does_ \- then it's just a matter of time before Skyfire's gentle pressure (and constant circling of the planet) brings them both down on its surface.

"It can't be as bad as the moon of Nexum-6," Skyfire tries, making Starscream grimace.

"Nothing could be as bad as that foul pit. I still feel that goo in my canopy sometimes!"

Skyfire chuckles, his nose dipping down. "I'm taking us in."

"Like _Pit - "_

One little-used scanner goes _ping!_ , interrupting the argument before it can truly begin. Starscream peers at it as it pings again, frowning. It's an experimental scanner they'd added at one of their classmate's insistence, something he'd called a 'temporal scanner', claiming it would be useful if they ran into any temporal anomalies.

Which were flat out improbable, Starscream had told him, before citing the weight limitations, the energy costs, and finally how much use the thing would be to them, which was nil. Even Skyfire hadn't been willing to do more than look at the thing - in the end they'd only added it because their classmate had slimmed down the design, made it run on almost nothing, and paid them to take readings.

Skyfire's flight evens out as Starscream examines the little scanner. He's plugged into the device directly, so Starscream doesn't bother telling him what the readouts say. They can both see that there was a temporal anomaly on Sol-3's surface, that it only lasted for a few seconds, and that it hasn't repeated itself.

"Take us down," Starscream says, his curiosity taking control. "I want to see whatever caused this."

Skyfire's nose dips back down in mute agreement, and Starscream moves into the cockpit to watch their descent, taking a seat and strapping himself in as Sol-3 grows larger and larger still in the viewscreen.

Starscream itches to tease Skyfire about the samples they'll collect, and to ask him about the scan, but he bites his glossae, keenly aware of how fragile they both are in the face of a planet's unhappy atmosphere.

So he sits in silence as Skyfire drops out of the sky like a falling star. Watches the broad expanse of this alien planet unfurl below them, trusting his friend with his life.

Soon Skyfire begins to come out of the long dive, turning in the air as he does, putting them over different land masses below. Starscream's spent too much time around Skyfire if he's thinking those kind of mushy thoughts about the shuttle.

He wants very much to get out of Skyfire and fly under his own power all of a sudden, but kills the desire before it can leave his processor. Given the speed of Skyfire's descent, leaving him would be tricky and keeping up with him impossible. Even if Starscream were a top of the line seeker, with the latest engines - and he isn't - a shuttle will always outclass him when it comes to speed and force. Facts that fill him with raging jealousy, except that Skyfire is _his_ friend.

"What do you think we'll find?" Skyfire asks much later, once they're on a clear trajectory for the temporal anomaly.

"It could be anything," Starscream says. He has a full list of potential items, persons, vehicles, or buildings it could be. "I think it's likely we'll find a malfunctioning alien device. Or a functioning alien device that's a probe, meant to scout this world for anything of use."

"Those would be sensible finds," Skyfire says, swooping lower still as they approach their coordinates. "I'd like it if we found a person attached to those devices."

Starscream rolls his optics. "You're asking for too much."

"Am I really, Starscream? Imagine the possibilities - talking to someone who can travel through time. A race of organics who live outside reality!"

Starscream laughs, and Skyfire answers it, amusement echoing between their EM fields. Skyfire has always been eager to meet aliens, a nonsense desire that Starscream tolerates with fond amusement.

"Nonsense," Starscream says without malice as Skyfire slows further still. He undoes his straps, getting up. "How's the weather?"

"There's some turbulence," Skyfire says. "The humidity's up, too, but it's...pleasant."

Starscream grimaces as Skyfire opens up his hatch and steps out, transforming as he falls, kicking his thrusters in and turning in the air to catch up with Skyfire.

Skyfire's right: for an alien planet, it's pleasant. Starscream says nothing as he pulls into formation with Skyfire, leading them onwards to the coordinates.

The scenery below is as strange as alien planets get, the ground beneath covered with organic stalks that ripples with the winds. It's broken by bare patches of rock and more organic matter, and occasionally pattern-breaking movement draws his attention.

"Look!" Skyfire says, pinging him with a direction. "There's organic life!"

"No, we can't stop to stare at it," Starscream says, even as he longs to slip back inside Skyfire and pore over the scanners, or better yet fly down and seize the disgusting creature and haul it back to Cybertron for intensive studies. "How do you think it processes fuel?"

"There's more than one of them," Skyfire says, voice hushed, ignoring the question in favor of drifting off the flight path enough to collect what must be a hundred visuals.

Starscream doesn't call him back, waiting out the kliks until Skyfire rejoins him. These are the moments this trip was designed for, the moments where they could both in turn give into unbridled curiosity and come back with terabytes of data on alien planets no Cybertronian has ever laid optics on before.

They're still missing their holy grail, but Starscream doesn't let that dampen his spirits as he accelerates towards their mysterious temporal coordinates.

"Are we doing a flyby first?"

"Of course!" Starscream calls as they slow their engines further. "Go high, Skyfire. If this turns dangerous I want our scanners out of the line of fire."

Skyfire laughs at the notion, but obligingly pulls up, soaring high in this alien sky - Starscream saves a visual before pulling ahead, flying over the coordinates at a speed just slow enough to let him view the area.

::I don't see anything,:: Starscream says over the comms, disappointed. ::Tell me there's something interesting on your scanners, Skyfire.::

An ominous stretch of silence as Starscream circles back around, then - 

::There's a Cybertronian life signal down there.::

Starscream falters, then finishes his turn. ::Did you just say Cybertronian?::

::A lot of these readings aren't making sense, but - yes. I did.::

::I'm going down there,:: Starscream says, and he drops into a steep dive, transforming at the end of it, landing on his pedes. The organic matter breaks and snaps underfoot, the rest of it waving around his thrusters. He restrains a shudder as he carefully explores the area, looking for - there.

Starscream bends over, parting the strands of organic matter, and stares down at a gun. Its design doesn't match any Cybertronian gun he knows, but it's impossible to mistake what its function is.

"You look lost," he says, bending down to pick up the gunformer.

It's heavy, far heavier than its physical appearance would imply, and he has to use both hands to haul it up. He carefully turns it over in his hands, studying the scope and the barrel and the grip - there's a strangely familiar purple symbol etched into the metal.

::Starscream?:: Skyfire sends.

::It's a gun. I think it's unconscious - does this mean anything to you?:: Starscream sends up a visual of the symbol as he turns the gun over in his hands once more. He's never held another Cybertronian in his hands like this outside of the laboratory. He can feel the whisper of a dormant EM field if he focuses on it, but otherwise the gun runs silent.

He could mistake it for just another weapon, if he ran across it in an armory or on a battlefield. Perhaps that's the point of the altmode, but it's hard to wrap his processor around the concept of such a...helpless altmode.

::No, it doesn't,:: Skyfire sends back. ::He might be in need of medical aid, Starscream. Can you bring him up here?::

::Yes,:: Starscream sends, but he doesn't take to the skies immediately, instead checking their surroundings for anything else - but there's nothing to find.

That done, he straightens back up, considering his flight path. He hefts the gun into a more secure grip, firing his thrusters hotter than usual to compensate for the weight, burning the organic matter at his feet as he shoots into the sky. He climbs higher, higher - there. He transforms, dropping the gun into his cockpit as he fires his main engines.

::Starscream!::

::What?::

::You started a fire!::

::So?:: Starscream looks down, watching the spreading conflagration. ::It'll burn itself out eventually. If the ecosystem can't handle one simple fire it's not worth saving.::

Skyfire doesn't answer him, but he opens his hatch when Starscream approaches, and the reproach in his EM field is easy enough to read.

Starscream ignores it in favor of transforming back, carrying the gun to the banks of scanners and gingerly setting it down.

"Whoever it is, they're very lucky that we were in the neighborhood," Skyfire says, activating the first of their medical scans.

"Luck? Luck has nothing to do with it," Starscream says, watching the green light advance over the surface of their find. "Whatever sent him through time must have detected us - or else this time period is important. It's hard to say where he was meant to end up without more information, but there _must_ be a reason he arrived in time for us to detect him."

Skyfire radiates amusement. "Do you mind if I call it luck until we know what really brought him here?"

"Of course I mind, that's inaccurate terminology!" Starscream snaps with faux-heat. "Anyways, what did you mean when you said your readings weren't making sense?"

"They're scrambled," Skyfire says, and he transmits the findings. "Look."

Starscream watches as the green light finishes its pass, scrolling through Skyfire's readings, a frown growing on his face. Their gun is saturated with radiation, exotic energies that don't exist outside of a laboratory - Skyfire's right: they don't make sense.

"Skyfire," Starscream says. "Is he putting off any radiation at all?"

A moment. "No."

Which means he's incredibly unstable. Which means - Starscream lunges for the gun, interrupting the medical scan, carrying the weapon back to Skyfire's hatch.

"Open up!"

Skyfire does, and Starscream leans out the opening, operating entirely on a panic-born hunch: a Cybertronian weapon that's absorbing and holding dangerously unstable energies within itself, sent through time, probably explosive.

He doesn't throw the gun from Skyfire, but instead points it up, aiming for deep space, trusting that this is the safest possible course of action.

He pulls the trigger.

The gun bucks in his hands, a series of explosions registering as those unstable energies are compressed and channeled and directed, the force of their blast discharging in a concentrated purple-black beam that arcs off into space. Starscream can only hope it won't hit anything before it disperses into the void.

The silence in the aftermath is deafening.

Starscream looks at the gun in his hands, then raises it and pulls the trigger a second time.

There's a hum instead of an explosion, and this time he fires what must be the normal shot for this gun, a purple-white blast that doesn't inspire the same feeling of dread.

"...Starscream?" Skyfire asks.

"One more," Starscream says, and he fires again, grinning when his theory is confirmed - it's the same kind of shot. "I've got it figured out!"

"Well, don't leave me in the dark," Skyfire says as Starscream carries the gun back to the medical scanners.

"It's a fusion cannon," Starscream says. "It can turn any form of energy into ammunition. I'd wager that wherever it was last was ground zero, and I think it was sent in time to safely dispose of the energies it picked up from the blast."

It's not a perfect theory, he's well aware of that, but it feels right. Why else would someone send a gun one-way through time, if not to get rid of its dangerous payload?

//

Consciousness returns with the gentle buzz of medical equipment, systems onlining all at once. Megatron knows who he is, what he is, and with the establishment of identity he sets to answering the rest of his questions: where is he? What happened to him?

He's still in his altmode. He tries and fails to transform back, his t-cog clicking uselessly.

Through his targeting systems he knows everything about the bank of medical scanners he's pointed at - Cybertronian technology that's been connected to a shuttleformer. If he fires the scanners will be reduced to scrap, followed by the junction of metal that connects the shuttle's wing to the rest of its form.

How careless of the Autobots, to place him so.

"He's online," says the shuttle. Megatron begins his firing sequence, only to be snatched up, his scope passing over banks of scanners, the shuttle's interior shown to him as he's carried towards an opening hatch.

"If you _must_ fire, do it here!" Starscream says, pointing him out into open air.

Treachery, is it? Megatron is under no illusions: in this state he is powerless to protest Starscream's assumption of command, and unless his _loyal_ followers can extract him from Starscream's hands and repair his transformation abilities, he's stuck.

How happy Starscream must be.

"Is your vocalizer working?" Starscream asks. "Can you hear me?"

Silence will get him nothing; the medical scanners will be able to betray his functioning.

"I hear you," Megatron says, paying attention to the way Starscream's hands are shaking. His grip is tighter than usual, betraying a lack of confidence. "Is whatever plan you've put together falling apart already?"

Instead of the usual angry retort, there's only silence. Megatron could sneer - it must have been a disaster, if Starscream's this badly shaken. He braces himself for the worst news - the loss of the _Victory,_ casualties, the destruction of Cybertron itself. There's no telling what he's missed.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," Starscream says, shifting Megatron in his hands.

"I am not in the mood for games, _Starscream,"_ Megatron growls, recognizing that something is wrong but unable to explain how or why yet. His commlinks are a flat band of static across all of his channels, and in this form he can't deploy his EM field, nor does he have access to any other sensors or scanners. He is a gun, and the only means he has to look at the world around him are his targeting systems, linked with his scope - and Starscream continues to point him harmlessly out at open space, denying him the chance to see if anyone else is in the shuttle or flying alongside.

Fingers tense around his grip, coming achingly close to the trigger. Good, Megatron thinks. Starscream's finally angry. Anger puts control of the situation purely in _his_ hands - 

"How do you know my name?"

Megatron's processor suffers a brief lockup, recovering in seconds as the battlefield shifts around him.

It seems his understanding of the situation is flawed, and a new approach is required.

"Tell me," Megatron commands, "Do you know my name?"

//

::Temporal energies,:: Starscream repeats to Skyfire with open wonder as the gun in his hands gives him an order. ::He _must_ be from the future. My future!::

::I don't like his tone,:: Skyfire says - he's had nothing but cold pedes since the gunformer came online and nearly fired on him.

::He's probably a soldier - their type don't have any respect for the intelligentsia, ergo me. The plan he referred to must be some kind of experiment that obviously wasn't ready to move beyond the testing stage. Maybe I was building him a time machine?::

"I have no idea who you are," Starscream says, remembering to answer the weapon in his hands. "So it seems you have me at a disadvantage."

There is a significant pause.

"I am Megatron," the gun says as if that means anything to anyone - but it is, at last, a name.

"As you already know who _I_ am," Starscream says. "Allow me to introduce my partner, Skyfire."

"Hello," Skyfire says.

"We're scientists from Cybertron," Starscream goes on, handing out information like energon candies. "Right now we're in high atmosphere on Sol-3, a planet that doesn't host any intelligent life at all. You're lucky Skyfire insisted we come closer for samples or else we may not have detected you."

::Why not mention the temporal energies?::

::You said it yourself! He feels dangerous. I want him to tell us about the time travel.:: Starscream sends. ::The question is, how open will he be?::

There is an even longer pause. Starscream resists the urge to fidget.

"My transformation cog was damaged before I arrived here. Can you repair it?"

::Next to nothing. He's hiding something.::

"I don't know if it's safe to bring you back inside," Starscream says. "Can you keep yourself from going off randomly?"

"Yes."

"Why would you fire on Skyfire _deliberately?"_

Starscream wishes the gun's transformation abilities weren't impaired; oh the look that must have been on his face, if he has a face - 

"I assumed I was a captive," Megatron says. "I _assumed_ I came online earlier than my captives expected, and intended to take advantage of the opportunity. I am fortunate that you found me instead - my captors would have dismantled me and left me for scrap."

::He is a soldier!:: Starscream crows.

"Who are you fighting?" Skyfire asks, slipping in with the most important question.

This time Megatron's answer is immediate: "A rogue faction of Cybertronians intent on seizing control of our home planet's resources."

"Is that the truth?" Starscream asks. "Why would I be involved?"

"I will answer your questions if you repair my transformation cog."

Starscream runs fingers over the gun, considering the danger and his own curiosity. Right now Megatron is manageable - keep him pointed away and he's harmless. It would be safer to leave him as a gun.

::Bring him inside,:: Skyfire says, breaking into Starscream's considerations. ::Whether we repair him or not, I'd like to finish the full battery of medical scans. Right now I don't know if we can repair him with the tools we have on hand.::

Practical concerns. Starscream restrains an annoyed ex-vent and hefts the gun back to the medical scanners, setting him down with an undignified clatter before nudging him into position for the scanners.

"We might not be able to repair your t-cog," Starscream says. "Depends on how you broke it. Skyfire's going to finish scanning you, so sit tight."

He smirks as the scanners start back up, amused at his own private joke: _it isn't like you can do anything else, Megatron._

//

"Wheeljack! Wheeljack, can you hear me?" Bluestreak crouches over him, the fence in pieces around them. Normally driving into even an electrified fence shouldn't do more than daze any of them for long, but it's been kliks and Wheeljack still hasn't said anything.

Bluestreak begins to reach new levels of worry when there's a click and Wheeljack's familiar voice sounds.

"I think it worked!"

Bluestreak looks up at the sky for a brief moment, then looks back down at Wheeljack and gently taps his hood. "Can you transform?"

"Nope," Wheeljack says after a moment, an ominous clicking sound coming from somewhere within him. "But not to worry. Just get me back to my lab and I can get myself unstuck in a jiffy."

"You'll have to take Sideswipe with you," Bluestreak says. "The blast caught him too."

"Oh, yeah! I'll have to thank him, too, he saved my hide when Megatron - " Wheeljack stops, then spins his wheels, backing away from Bluestreak. "Where is the old Slagmaker, anyways?"

"We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? His altmode is a gun, which means he can't fly, or otherwise do anything in the mobile range, which means he should be wherever he fell." An ominous pause, and then Wheeljack bursts out: "This area was supposed to be clear of other Decepticons! We had it set up to catch him alone! Don't tell me he's back with his pals already!"

"No one took him," Bluestreak hurries to say. "But that's just it, Wheeljack, we don't know where he is. When he transformed he vanished, and his energy signature isn't anywhere in the area."

Wheeljack drives off to the point of ground zero, weirdly colored lights emitting from inside his interior as he scans the area. Bluestreak follows him over, keeping an eye out for Decepticons in the twilight, doorwings twitching nervously given how far from cover they are.

"Wheeljack, we have to get you out of here," he says.

 _"Fascinating!"_ Wheeljack says. "That wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't know it was possible - "

Bluestreak reaches out to whack Wheeljack's roof.

"Hey!"

"Do you have the scans you need?" Bluestreak asks. "If you do then we have to get out of here before we get seekers inbound."

"Yeah, yeah, I got the scans we need - and I can confirm that Megatron ain't here, so let's split. Where's our transport?"

"This way," Bluestreak says, leading Wheeljack off through the compound. He doesn't transform, walking around the busted up warehouses and over the scorched concrete, sensor net thrown wide to take in any errant sound or energy signatures.

Once they reach Skyfire's hiding place - parked in one still-intact warehouse, covered with tarp to hide his gleaming white armor - he signals Hound and Skyfire both.

"Wheeljack!" Sideswipe says - quietly, but Bluestreak's over-primed sensors pick it up clearly - from within Skyfire as Wheeljack drives up the ramp. "Tell me you can reverse this."

"Give me an hour tops in the lab and we'll both walk again," Wheeljack says.

"You don't have a back-up ready?" Sideswipe asks, audibly puzzled.

"The back-up device was supposed to here and ready for use," Wheeljack says. "No, I don't know what went wrong yet. I'll figure it out."

Outside Hound emerges from one of the ruined warehouses, waving to Bluestreak as he approaches. They march up the ramp together, pinging Skyfire, who closes up and begins to pull out of the warehouse.

Bluestreak has a seat as he adjusts the sensitivity levels of his sensors, looking over the strike team. It had been a good plan, in his opinion. Everything had gone off without a hitch up until Wheeljack's grenade had been a dud - well, no, not quite a dud.

The after-mission report is going to be fun to write, he thinks as Skyfire blasts off.

"Spill it, Wheeljack: where _is_ Megatron?" Sideswipe says, backing up to gently nudge against Wheeljack's fender.

"Gone," Wheeljack says. "To Primus-knows-where. I don't know what happened yet."

"That's not a good sign," Sunstreaker mutters from his seat. "Think he's dead?"

"We're not that lucky," Sideswipe says. "I bet it just teleported him a few miles in some random direction."

"Then we should start looking for him," Sunstreaker says, thrusting his fist into his palm.

"No, no, he's further than that," Wheeljack says. "Going off of the scans I took of the area, I think it's not a matter of where, but _when."_

"Aw, _slag."_ Sideswipe sums up the general reaction to Wheeljack's statement.

"Wheeljack?" Skyfire speaks up. "May I see those scans?"

"Yeah, sure, here," Wheeljack says. "Do you have any experience with temporal anomalies?"

Skyfire doesn't answer immediately, ostensibly going over the scans he's been given. "...I've read some of the literature on the topic," he says once the silence in the shuttle is complete. "While it didn't survive the crash," there is a painful nonchalance in those words that Bluestreak is overly familiar with, "I was outfitted with a scanner tuned to detect temporal energies."

"Did it pick up anything?" Wheeljack asks.

"No," Skyfire says. "...No, it never did."

"Why don't you sound sure?" Sideswipe asks.

"I didn't pay much attention to that piece of equipment. I may not have noticed if it did detect anything."

"Hmm," Wheeljack says. "Do you think we could recreate that scanner from your memories of it?"

"I don't know," Skyfire says thoughtfully. "While it wasn't my field, the mech who installed it insisted on telling me a lot about it. We might be able to use that transcript as a starting point."

"Great! I want to see everything this mech said as soon as possible."

"Does he have a designation?" Bluestreak asks, all too aware that he's asking about a dead mech, tone appropriately apologetic.

"Brainstorm," Skyfire says, and Wheeljack abruptly honks, startling everyone.

"I remember him! He had absolutely incredible ideas about the nature of space-time and multiverses - and everything else. You should have _seen_ the explosions his crazier experiments caused!"

"I did," Skyfire says. "That was part of why we made him pay us to take his temporal scanner on that trip."

"And we want to build something this mech designed?" Sideswipe asks, attempting to roll away from Wheeljack. "Is that a good idea?"

"It's a scanner," Wheeljack says. "Those aren't meant to explode."

"I've got a better question," Sunstreaker says. "Why didn't your grenades work as advertised? The one time you build something that's supposed to explode, it doesn't. We nearly got fragged out there!"

"Sunny - "

"I want an answer," Sunstreaker growls, and the shuttle falls silent again.

"They glitched," Wheeljack says finally. "My test units didn't have that delay. You know it wasn't intentional."

The silence stretches after that, then Sunstreaker finally jerks his head towards Sideswipe. "You're sure you can fix it?"

"Dead certain," Wheeljack says. "I know exactly what's gumming up our t-cogs, and how to fix it - and I've got the tools I can operate without hands. Poor old Megatron doesn't, whenever he is."

It's a clear diversion, but it works - it pulls a laugh out of Sideswipe, then out of the whole crew, because Wheeljack's right: wherever Megatron is, he's trapped in his altmode and practically helpless.

//

"There's some kind of energy saturating your t-cog," Skyfire explains. "It's preventing it from functioning - but it isn't broken."

"That accursed grenade," Megatron mutters, piecing together what must have happened.

"It doesn't look like it's dissipating, either," Skyfire goes on. "We'll have to find a way to clear it from your circuits....did you just say grenade?"

"I did."

"What kind of grenade would do this?"

"An experimental weapon based on transfixation technology," Megatron says, grudgingly impressed by the Autobot engineer's work. It couldn't have been an easy task to duplicate the Constructicon's work, let alone turn it into such an effective weapon.

If not for the stroke of luck that sent him through time, he would have been stranded in Autobot hands, helpless to whatever tortures they devised. And as to that stroke of luck - it was unfortunate for the Autobot engineer that he hadn't known the finer details of Megatron's construction.

There remained several questions: if the energy lingering in his t-cog would initiate another warp, if he could duplicate the effect to return to the present, and... if he wanted to return at all.

While his audial sensors were buried within his frame and all input was muted, he could hear the soft clank of Starscream's pedes as he paced the length of the shuttle. He could hear the whine of the shuttle's engines.

If his audials were more sensitive he would hear the soft buzz of comms. Starscream moves when he speaks, gesturing and pacing as he argues. Age won't have changed that habit, even in reverse.

The traitorous shuttle - not yet an Autobot or a traitor - had the strength of will to fight him and Starscream. Adjustments to his priorities snap into place as he reviews those memory files, picking out the timeframe Starscream cited for their fateful flight: there had only been _one_ trip to Sol-3 before the war.

//

::He's a soldier from a war in the future and we have no guarantee he's not going to try to change the past. We shouldn't repair him.::

::Agreed. We're not lifting a finger to help this Megatron until he gives us some honest answers. But we're not getting rid of him! I want to know how he knows me, and why he thinks so little of me and my plans.::

Skyfire sighs, a windy sound over the comms. ::Starscream, I don't even know how gunformers refuel, or how much he'll need. We'll have to cut our trip short.::

Impossible. Unthinkable. The mere suggestion of abandoning the rest of their hard-won expedition? When they _haven't_ found what he needs? For a surly gunformer - admittedly, from the future, how very interesting.

Instead of answering Skyfire, Starscream comes back to Megatron, expecting the weight when he picks him up. It has to be a function of his mysterious root mode, some trick that makes him so heavy - what does he look like? Starscream hasn't spent time around gunformers, neither he nor Skyfire have, and he doesn't know if they're tall, if they're minibots, or what.

But he's made up his mind on what he's going to do about this Megatron.

"You're going to start talking," Starscream says as he walks back towards Skyfire's hatch. "We want answers. The whole story about who you are, where you're from, and how you know me. A single omission, a single lie, and I throw you out into space. You'll starve to death."

A moment of silence. Starscream tilts his head up, optics flaring. Not that Megatron can appreciate the visual effect - the defiance is for Skyfire, who isn't _happy._

"Where do you want to start?"

Oh good, it worked.

"With this," Starscream taps the purple sigil. "It's angular. It's purple to my optics, a dark gray against your plating if I reduce the quality. What does it stand for?"

If Megatron tells the truth, Starscream can confirm it when information resolves the nagging familiarity in his processors, a loose piece of data lost in his memory banks. It's not like he's tagged _every_ strange symbol he's ever seen.

"Decepticons," Megatron says. The word blazes through them, lighting up memory files and associations and _arguments._

Decepticons, a long defeated faction on Cybertron, responsible for countless wars in their past. Not a favorite subject of modern Cybertronians, who saw themselves as the victors and past all of that ugly conflict. Not a subject he'd had an easy time finding any information on.

 _Not_ a subject Skyfire enjoyed.

His friend was naive, if he thought the faction was dead and gone. Even more naive, to think that the Decepticons were irrelevant now. A trusting fool, to believe that Cybertron was at peace, dedicated to research and manufacturing. Vos churned out hundreds of new fliers, Tarn built and trained its armies, and while Starscream had never been to other cities aside from Altihex, he would bet on his processor that they were all preparing for conflict in their own special ways.

After all, it was what Cybertronians were designed for. Not that he believed in function based on form, but it would take a fool to believe that their species tended towards peace as a rule when so many of them had gun mounts built into their very plating.

"I was right," Starscream says, excitement winning out over caution. "Skyfire, I _told_ you. Where does it erupt? Who starts it? Who's _winning?"_

"We don't know how time travel works, Starscream!"

"Overthinking it won't get us anywhere," Starscream snaps. "Ignore him, Megatron. Tell me _everything."_

"You become deeply involved in the war," Megatron says, which may or may not be a mistake. Starscream's optics narrow.

"A wonderful attempt. I _warned_ you not to lie."

An audible sneer: "Why lie about this? I never thought you of all mechs would underestimate yourself."

"I am _not!_ Do you think I'm stupid? That I'll fall for petty flattery? What's next, telling me that I'm the ruler of all Decepticons? So - enlighten me, Megatron. What's worth hiding from us? What's worth starving for?"

"You contradict yourself, Starscream."

Starscream hisses. Yes, of course he does. Of course his processor trips itself up when he's heated and arguing and something important is at stake.

"Answer. My question."

"You become the second in command of the Decepticons, Air Commander of the Armada, and an infamous traitor," Megatron goes on, forcing Starscream's wings back. "Yet you live."

"And thrive," Starscream demands, processor racing. If, _if_ this is true, then he climbs the ranks until he hits an impassable barrier. He'll lose Skyfire, a given when he knows his friend is too principled to fight, he'll become _famous_ for turning traitor.

This Megatron knew him. Knows he's a traitor.

He's telling the truth.

"How do we stop it?" Skyfire asks, taking the lead when Starscream is quiet for too long.

"There is a way," Megatron says. "If the timeline will tolerate alterations."

"Why do _you_ want to stop this war?" Starscream snaps, glancing back at Megatron, already several paces away from him.

He expects revenge, murder before the motive could happen. It won't be for sentimental reasons, he's sure of _that._

"Cybertron loses power, its reserves drained. The surviving metrotitans go into stasis. The war moves on. Do you have _any_ idea how much fuel is necessary to restart a planet's core?"

Skyfire's engines hitch. Starscream halts mid-step.

"But how," Starscream says through shock, "In the past the wars never decimated Cybertron itself! The scale involved - " He stutters to a stop, envisioning the delicate diplomatic dance that Vos and Tarn are involved in shattering. Their armies, unleashed. Their _weapons,_ unleashed - 

And that's just what he _knows_ about. What of Iacon's traditional stranglehold on the highways linking them all? What of Polyhex? _Kaon?_

"Why didn't you _start_ with this?" Starscream asks, his voice raising into a shriek.

Megatron doesn't deign to answer. Skyfire's still stalling, engines silent.

Of course their poisonous guest didn't start with that. Of course they wouldn't believe such blatant lies. Of course he'd try to keep them calm so they'd cheerfully repair him and listen to his story when he's ambulatory and threatening.

Of _course_ they're both smarter than that, of _course_ this weapon has shifted tactics.

Hatred ignites in Starscream, burning through his fuel lines - distinct from rage. He narrows his optics at Megatron, then snaps out an order: "Skyfire! Set course for Cybertron!"

//

Cybertron fills his visual sensors until it's all there is, atmosphere warming his plating. Inside, Starscream and... Megatron are strapped down, safety protocols in effect. Skyfire hasn't missed when re-entering an atmosphere, but the dangers are too impressive to ignore.

If their find weren't strapped to a surface and full of strange energies, there would have been an argument about whether Starscream's plating could handle this descent or not. Starscream would be firmly strapped in despite his attempts to escape, they'd throw numbers at each other, and Skyfire wouldn't let his friend risk himself when they _know_ he's not built for planetary descents.

The heat clears, his sensors reboot from their shut-down, and communications flood in.

::Skyfire!::

::Back so soon?::

::Routing confirmation: Altihex?::

Skyfire answers the routine ones with confirmations: they are en-route to Alithex, he is on a descent to one of their spaceports for quarantine scans. For the personal ones, with the comms mechs who know him, he sends short reassurances that they're unharmed, that something serious came up, that he'll be willing to talk later.

If not for Megatron these would be long conversations, full of excitement over the aliens he met.

Perhaps it's unfair of him to feel that way towards Megatron.

To the Science Academy: a report is dutifully filed, accounting for the excess fuel he carries, the unconsumed supplies for their trip.

"Starscream," Skyfire says as he slows. Altihex comes into view, the spaceport waiting. "I'm going to ask Brainstorm to meet us outside of quarantine."

"Don't tell him details, and _don't_ let him near us without a few threats."

If the situation were different he would rebuke Starscream for his sometimes glitchesque tendency to threaten mechs.

"I'll talk to him," he says instead, sending a ping to Brainstorm's comm number.

::You're back early! And you're contacting me, which means my invention must have picked up something interesting and you need help with it. Right?::

::Yes.::

::Yes! Which quarantine are you at?::

Skyfire doesn't answer immediately, letting Brainstorm stew as he angles into the waiting port, slowing almost to a stop as the quarantine scanners pass over him. These scanners are a bare formality at this stage - he's already brought any contaminants inside Cybertron's atmosphere, except that he performed the quarantine procedures before beginning the descent.

Still, safety regulations hold.

Beyond the green lights of the scanner is the waiting landing pad, the flat structure as appealing as an oil bath - it's steady, it's safe, landing there will be proof he's survived this interstellar cruise.

He reflects on how sentimental he is all of a sudden, how affectionate he is of Altihex and of this stock landing pad, completely indistinguishable from the one in the next dock, or the next. It's the threat Megatron carries that's provoked this, but also - he's never been so far from Cybertron before. He's made intersystem flights before, functioned according to his frame, but this was his first exploratory flight.

He stops, landing gently on the pad. There's plenty of room for him to transform, the structure large enough to hold starships. He doesn't, opening his hatch instead as he sends a number to Brainstorm.

"Company incoming."

//

"I _said_ don't touch that!"

Brainstorm wiggles his fingers at Starscream, leaving the scanner banks to peer at his invention.

"Let's see what you saw," he murmurs, opening up a panel and extending a cable from his forearm.

"I thought you said it didn't have other sensors in it!" Starscream says, wincing at Skyfire's private rebuke. He _knows_ he's acting suspicious and high-strung, but it's his _right_ to be upset. They don't _need_ Brainstorm. His device brought them to Megatron, hooray, he can detect temporal anomalies. That doesn't mean he's an expert!

...Not that Skyfire will listen to his arguments again. At least he convinced him to let him hide Megatron.

"It doesn't," Brainstorm says without looking at him. His wings are high with excitement, and Starscream knows they've lost his focus entirely. He's making noises now, muttering nonsensical comments before he whirls and seizes Starscream's shoulders.

"Do you know what you found?!"

Of course we do! Starscream wants to shout, but he grates out: "No. You might as well tell us ignorant plebeians all about it."

"A genuine temporal anomaly! A link between times! Someone or something actually linked two time periods without triggering any paradoxes or collapses! Tell me you went to the origin point!"

"We didn't find anything," Starscream says, expecting disappointment.

"But you scanned it, right?"

Ah.

"If your contraption picked up anything, I suppose that counts."

"Okay. Okay. I can work with that," Brainstorm says, letting go of his shoulders to return to his contraption. He's muttering now, little observations that he should keep to himself as he works.

"Brainstorm?" Skyfire asks, tone polite.

Brainstorm keeps muttering, hands moving incessantly - but he does ask: "Yes? What is it?"

"How does time travel work?"

It's the right tone to strike: polite, curious, deferring to an authority. Skyfire has to be the one to ask because Starscream has never figured out how to fake it well enough. If he tries, he gets suspicious looks, questions about his motivations, and dismissive statements.

Which might be less about his tone and more about how he's a batch-made seeker, a frametype that shouldn't be anywhere near Altihex, but no. It's his tone. He can't fake that kind of subservience.

"Typically it doesn't," Brainstorm says without looking up. "According to Straightwire's theories, temporal energies aren't temporal at all. They indicate branching paths in the multiverse, and have nothing to do with time. She's wrong, of course, but I'll give her credit for bringing up multiverses. Why Occitam thinks there's no such thing as a multiverse I'll never know - "

Starscream's wings twitch. He wants to tell him to get on with it, they don't need the whole weight of academia's theories interfering with answers. But he doesn't. He holds still and listens and lets the answers come.

" - Anyways, temporal energies _do_ interact with the timestream. Just because we haven't figured out how to generate or manipulate them doesn't mean they're out of our reach. And this proves it! I've got a full-spectrum scan of a temporal anomaly, one that doesn't link to another universe but another _time!_ You two struck white energon and I _should_ have insisted I come along, I could have - "

"Brainstorm," Skyfire says, tone gentle. "What did we find? Could you use a laymech's terms? This isn't our field."

"Right, of course. You found evidence of time travel. Specifically, a hole in the space-time continuum large enough for something to fit through. It's sealed itself up by now, and we have no way of knowing what came through - if anything - but more importantly I got valuable scans about this hole. I might be able to create something that can manipulate these energies, now. Maybe."

Yes, fantastic. Starscream narrows his optics and asks the important question. "If something did come through, could it change the past?"

"That depends on whose theory you subscribe to," Brainstorm says. "Either it's completely possible and our timeline is completely mutable, or it's completely fixed and impossible to change anything. Based on my studies, I think our timeline is mutable, but self-correcting. The way temporal energies behave - "

He's off into details that should interest Starscream, but he can't say he cares. He advances on Brainstorm and seizes his shoulders. "How self-correcting? What does that mean?"

"The timeline - our timeline - has a specific pattern. Think of stones in liquids making ripples. Throw in a handful of stones and you're going to get chaos as the ripples collide with each other. Our timeline already has a specific set of ripples it wants to follow. (Don't ask me how that set was determined.) Someone arriving from the future is going to introduce a new ripple that could throw off everything and create a brand new pattern. In my metaphor, we're not dealing with liquid so much as a sluggish ooze. Most ripples are going to collide with the set ones and be destroyed under their influence. So if you want to change the future, you have to create a really big ripple - or one in a strategic location - and that could change everything."

"Time isn't linear," Skyfire says, a fragment of a lesson they'd both learned.

"Right. So if this new ripple hits and changes everything, it's not just going to change the present, it's going to change the future and the past at the same time. Which is why it's so hard to change the timeline - there's resistance. Coincidences are going to start piling up to stop this rogue ripple, and if you're not careful, the entire container might get shaken up just to put things to rights."

"By what?"

"I don't know," Brainstorm says. "I haven't tested this theory, but I might able to now that you've brought me these scans! Imagine being able to influence the forces of the universe that _make_ things happen!"

Imagine. Starscream bares his dentae at him.

"I - " don't have to, he begins to say.

"Brainstorm, thank you," Skyfire says, pinging Starscream rapidly. ::We're not bringing him into this! Remember?::

Right. He'd argued for that. Starscream releases Brainstorm's shoulders and backs up, wings twitching.

"You'll make a fortune at the races," he mutters.

"Those events aren't large enough to impact anything unless the winners are involved in ripples," Brainstorm says. "So - "

"You're giving me a processor ache," Starscream says. He can see the implications: anything could be important, anything could be insignificant. And he's got the equivalent of a meteor hitting a small pool sitting in his subspace, hidden from prying optics. Whatever invisible forces move to keep them all in their pretty little pre-determined patterns are probably already moving.

"Let me know when you go on another expedition! I'll pay triple if you find another find like this one!" Brainstorm says, gathering up his equipment. Skyfire's helping him detach and leave, chatter that's friendly, soothing, diplomatic.

Starscream hates it, having a seat so he can think.

They'll have to talk to Megatron, fill him in on this entire conversation. They'll have to fix him so he can transform. They'll have to decide what to do.

Skyfire will, at least.

Starscream knows he's ready to fight the universe itself, if that's what it takes to get him what he wants. He's been doing that since he was sparked.

//

"So there will be opposition." Megatron expected no less.

"And it may not work at all," Starscream concludes with a venomous flourish. "Where do we start?"

"Restoring my transformation capabilities," Megatron says. Starscream wants him helpless - a given. Starscream needs him - also a given. "You are uniquely qualified to repair me," he says, tipping the balance in his favor.

"Obviously," Starscream says, unable to hide how pleased he is by the compliment. "But I _do_ want a guarantee."

"What do you require, Starscream?" If he were not helpless he could mock him with oaths, solemn vows - but he is bound to his altmode, and reliant on Starscream. He checks his vocalizer and trusts that Starscream's weaknesses will see him repaired.

If visuals and frame-language matter - he knows Starscream's precise stance, the stiff formality his wings show as his optics narrow, his fingers touch his chin, his fans barely gust as he thinks. All of Starscream's nervous energy stills when he's calculating.

 _That_ is the state he most often endeavors to provoke when he wants Starscream at the peak of his abilities. Anger becomes a fuel, not an all-encompassing demand. Ego is often set to the side, Starscream's natural brilliance shining through.

"Do you _really_ need me, Megatron? What's to say you'll actually stoop to working with me when you no longer need me? _You_ know every player you need to eliminate or recruit to change the future. Do _I_ stand with them?"

"Your memory banks are not malfunctioning," Megatron says, deliberate bait. Starscream isn't asking for a repeat of the titles he eventually gains.

"You called me a traitor," Starscream hisses.

It is useful to know that Skyfire isn't here, and that they are alone.

"A chronic traitor," Megatron says. "You attempt to kill me upwards of a thousand times. Most of them come from the later stages of the war, when your glitch moves into overdrive."

Explain that it's a result of the loss of Cybertron, and then the damage from their transit to Earth? No. Let Starscream draw his own conclusions.

"I don't believe it," Starscream lies, tone wondering.

"You are anticipated," Megatron says, and delivers total destruction. "And valued."

Whatever Starscream says or does now, those words will hold him prisoner to his own ego. If there is any driving force in Starscream, it is the all-encompassing desire to be seen as the genius he is, to prove his worth to others.

It is fortunate that he _is_ a genius when properly aimed.

Silence follows, and silence. The sound of steps leading away from Megatron.

"Repair me, and we will reclaim another ally. We will choose our targets, and halt the war before it can begin."

Abruptly; "What were you?"

Lies would shatter Starscream's trust in him instantly. Posing as a mech with a lower rank would only lead to disaster.

"I am Megatron, leader of the Decepticons."

//

"The whole problem is, I can't pin down when Megatron is. Least, not with the equipment we have on hand. There's just too many possibilities, even if we assume he was dumped on Earth. The window of time we're looking at is just too big."

Who likes to admit defeat? Wheeljack doesn't. He'd skipped a recharge cycle to review his designs, to test them, to figure out what could turn those charged particles into the ingredients necessary to create a - a _rip_ in the spacetime. It's only insult to injury that he doesn't have the vocabulary necessary to talk about time travel.

"What are the consequences of leaving him wherever he is?" Prowl's question. Wheeljack's in the middle of an officer's meeting instead of still working in his lab, which is good for his creative processes. Lets him think about his problem from new angles instead of getting stuck.

"I don't know," Wheeljack says. "My best guess is that he's in the past somewhere, but then we're up against multiple theories of how time actually works. Have any of you read the human's materials on time travel? Even their fictional stuff counts - mostly because no one has answers!"

"Let's proceed with these assumptions," Prowl says. "First, that Megatron has been thrown through time exclusively." Deftly sidestepping the entire question of whether the multiverse exists or not. "Second, that there is either a delayed reaction or none at all. As we continue to exist, we have the option to do something about this."

There's something to be said for the possibility of dying thoughts, or a timeline playing itself out before guttering, but Prowl's right, even without proof: it's better if they proceed as if they have a chance of fixing things.

"Third," Prowl says. "Assume that Megatron is both functional and capable of finding a way around his condition."

There are grim nods at that.

"Wheeljack," Optimus Prime says. "Find out when he went, and how. Tell us what you need, and you'll have it. We cannot allow Megatron free reign."

He hardly needs to be told twice. Wheeljack gets up, leaving the meeting as Optimus relays orders - for their human allies to be contacted, for the possibility of talking to the Decepticons to be explored. All of those tricky decisions that Wheeljack doesn't have to worry about.

Instead - he paces in his lab.

There's no way his particles could have caused a temporal anomaly all on their own. He's got scans from the area, and there _wasn't_ anything else there for them to interact with. No weird energies, nothing!... except for what Megatron had within his systems.

An absent note sent back to Prowl: ::If you get a chance, ask the Decepticons for Megatron's output. I'd like the full array of scans and readings from their medical archives, but I _really_ need to know where he stores his rootmode when he transforms, and what kind of energies he's outputting on a daily basis.::

::Noted,:: Prowl sends back.

Wheeljack keeps thinking: Okay, if it is Megatron's subspace that's the culprit, then is he using the same systems the Autobots use? ...

Can he test that?

//

A declaration so absurd it’s either true or a lie. Starscream is careful not to give anything away as he thinks. It’s so _obvious_ that this gunformer is buttering him up. The lies should be easy to spot.

They aren’t, which makes the manipulations so much sweeter.

Megatron’s initial hostility, when he had assumed that Starscream was everything he would become - it’s the contempt that proves his words true. A strong leader would never be so openly contemptuous to a follower he’s courting or leading. Either they were enemies, or they were so close they could hate each other.

“Late stage of the war,” Starscream repeats back, reaching down to trace a fingertip over the icon of the Decepticons. “Why, Megatron,” his tone becomes sweet. “Were we _losing?”_

“Minor setbacks,” Megatron says, and oh, oh that _is_ interesting. “No thanks to you. Your strategic skills are lacking.”

“And yours are impeccable, I assume,” Starscream says, thinking of a ruined Cybertron.

“Return me to my present - your future - and the Decepticons will rise from the ashes,” Megatron growls. “Cybertron _will_ be restored.”

Yes, yes, the aforementioned question of how much fuel would be required to start a planet’s core. Their mission home, the whole reason Skyfire’s away to handle reports while Starscream figures out their passenger.

Nothing _he’s_ necessary for, with his inability to fake genuine servitude.

“I want a guarantee,” Starscream says. “Even if you are telling the truth now, _nothing_ says you’ll keep me around once you’re mobile.”

Here is a question he wants answered: what does Megatron know about him? Yes, yes, he knows he’s a traitor. Fascinating information. Useful in the right circumstances. Does Megatron _know_ that he’s a friendless, patronless student here at Altihex? That his use as a political tool to influence the coming war is essentially nill? Megatron is the tool here, containing all of the information necessary to enable his users to apply the levers.

He _must_ realize that Starscream knows this.

A trade is coming, if Starscream can make it valuable enough.

“Silence, Megatron?” There is no guarantee he can offer. “You really would like me to repair you, so you can shoot me and run free. Who would you find first? A victim or someone who can actually be loyal?”

Seeing as his strategic skills are obviously lesser than Megatron’s, and he’s a known traitor, and he won’t become important until there _is_ a war - 

“A backdoor into my coding,” Megatron says. “One command code.”

He’s _won._

“You’ll have to explain,” Starscream says, voice lowering to a satisfied purr. “What kind of backdoor?”

“Complete shutdown,” Megatron says, after a suitable pause.

“I want it now,” Starscream says. “No arguments, Megatron. Consider it a requirement for repairs.”

“Granted,” Megatron says. “This is for your audials only.”

Skyfire isn’t back, and no one else is here: “Go ahead.”

It’s a long string of numbers and letters. Starscream memorizes every one, hands clenched into fists. Yes! _Yes!_

This is _his_ victory, to extract this kind of weapon from Megatron, and he will _savor_ it.

//

Skyfire finds Starscream in their shared workshop, bent over his desk, illuminated only by the light of active scanners. He’s working on that gunformer - Megatron. A sudden obstacle between them, and Skyfire can’t help but be afraid for what this means for Starscream.

“Did they buy it?” Starscream asks without looking up once the door closes behind Skyfire. He twitches as the lights come up.

“They believed me,” Skyfire says, finding he’s made a fist. Starscream’s insistence on lying to their supervisors and teachers is as understandable as it is disturbing. The lie he’d had to tell, instead - harmless, easy to blame on a mechanical malfunction.

“Well that’s good,” Starscream says, finally looking up at him. He’s deployed his optical enhancers, and his optics glow strangely behind the crystal lenses. “Who implied that you turned around because you were sick of sharing the space with me? Or did they blame the fault on me? Go ahead, I like names.”

“No, Starscream,” Skyfire says, knowing it won’t do any good. Starscream’s clearly in a mood for a fight - the tilt of his wings, that eerie focus, the acid edge to his voice.

Starscream is _always_ in the mood for a fight. Give him the slightest provocation and he’ll erupt.

It’s different this time, with the gun sitting there on the table. They have an audience. They have a dangerous, secret audience, and Skyfire could wish that they’d never found it.

“What did they say?” Starscream pushes, looking up at him. He’s smiling.

::What did he tell you?:: Skyfire asks, coming up to him. “I don’t want to answer that.”

::Nothing you’ll like. Tarn and Vos are going to drop nuclear weapons on each other during the opening of the war. Just like that!::

Is that what this is? Is Starscream hostile because of this news? Skyfire doesn’t think so - Starscream’s never shown a speck of sentimentality for the city-state that forged him.

He shifts down to one knee, so he’s level with Starscream. Sometimes this calms Starscream, makes him easier to handle. Sometimes it angers him, makes him react like an angry sparkling. But it has a _point,_ because they need to be able to communicate now - 

Starscream crosses his arms, losing the smile.

“Starscream,” he starts, and stops.

“You’ve got cold pedes,” Starscream says. “You’re too soft-sparked to tell anyone what we found, but you _do_ want me to stop. It’s too late for that. I’m going to restore Megatron’s transformation abilities, and then we’re going to save Cybertron from itself.”

“How?” Skyfire asks. “How, Starscream?”

 _This_ is what he has been afraid of. Starscream has been ready and willing to fight the world since he came to the academy, and this Megatron must have offered him revenge.

“Why would a war erupt?” comes an unfamiliar voice - Megatron. Starscream turns his head, raising a hand.

“I suppose you have an answer,” Starscream says. ::Don’t tell him anything!::

Megatron continues if Starscream hasn’t spoken; “Perhaps you think it will be because of fools. That the confrontation between rivaling city-states will erupt because of offended tempers. Are you an idealist, Skyfire? An optimist? Do you believe that no one would want war except for those hungry for it? No, you know better than that. You know war is coming because you _know_ that sane, rational mechs will examine a map and sets of numbers and they will nod and give orders that cannot be taken back. Why _else_ would you devote yourself to searching the stars? Alien enemies would unite us, and that would preserve the peace.”

“No!” Skyfire can’t stop himself. “That isn’t why - “

“How is Cybertron fueled?” Megatron asks, voice strong despite his tinny vocalizer.

“Through energon mines, the harvesting of whatever stars we’re orbiting, and imports,” Starscream shoots off as if it were a question asked in class. “Get to the point!”

“Iacon commands the highways. Vos commands the air. Kaon controls the mines. Tarn controls the imports. _What happens when we cannot bring in enough fuel to sustain everyone?”_

These are _Starscream’s_ words and arguments. It doesn’t matter that they’re spoken from a time-traveling weapon, they are his friend’s words, ripped from his papers, his arguments, his reasons for specializing as he has.

“We won’t,” Skyfire seizes his one argument, knowing it will be futile. Megatron _knows what happens._

“Cybertron isn’t orbiting a star now,” Megatron says, softer now. “Something terrible will happen in Tarn, and soon. The mines will become our sole means of sustenance. This won’t _stop_ anything. The war won’t erupt over such a petty thing - but it will sow the seeds.”

And there he stops.

“Tarn, eh?” Starscream says, tapping his lips.

“We’ll have to go immediately,” Skyfire says, softer.

“What for?” Starscream asks, looking at him with open surprise. “To stop this tragedy? It’s bait, Skyfire. Why shuffle everything when we can wait and take advantage of what’s to come - “

“No!”

This is it, the tipping point.

This is where he and Starscream argue, where he fails to make his point because Starscream is too angry at the world to even try to save it, and _while he has his points_ he goes too far.

Skyfire does the only thing he can think of to stop this madness: as he rises to his pedes he snatches the gun off of Starscream’s table and drops it into his subspace.

//

The shouting hadn’t stopped. Starscream had _thrown_ things at him - actually a good sign. Starscream had believed that Skyfire would bring Megatron back.

It’s likely he still does, but now Skyfire’s holed up in his private quarters.

Now he has to decide what to do.

To resolve this, all he has to do is ignore the person in his subspace and wait until they starve. He dismisses the thought out of hand, and reaches into his subspace.

Megatron is heavy in his hand, and quiet. A result of his mass-shifting, and because he only has one optical sensor and small audio sensors active. They must be tied to the mode, and for a moment Skyfire wonders if he has a standard face-plate or something different.

“I apologize,” Skyfire says, careful even now: he keeps Megatron aimed away from himself.

“You did what you felt was necessary,” Megatron says.

“If you know Starscream personally, why did you tell him that Vos would be one of the first cities to be destroyed?”

When you ask a question you know the answer to, the purpose isn’t to confirm the answer, but to listen for lies and twists in the answer. A useful tactic for trying to understand mechs, whether they’re criminals, passengers, or politicians. A tactic Skyfire had been taught by friends, mentors and teachers alike - the circles he’s traveled in have been full of comms mechs and shuttles, mechs who live by understanding others.

“With my frame back, I don’t need to rely on his tempers. Unlike Starscream, I _want_ to stop the war.”

I don’t believe you, Skyfire thinks.

“What happens in Tarn? When?”

“When I tell you, what will you do?”

That hesitation right there. That dangled promise. The fact that Megatron hasn’t brought this up until now. He has provided goads to make the both of them act before they want to.

“Where did you come from, Megatron?” Skyfire asks.

The tinny sound of laughter erupts from the gun.

“Jealous, are we? I’ve promised Starscream glories, and nothing for you. What motivates you, Skyfire? A misplaced sense of heroism? Saving Tarn won’t do you any favors. No. Where have _your_ questions been? You’re looking for aliens. Would it be cheating if I simply told you where to look?”

“I’m not a hero,” Skyfire begins. These are words out of Starscream’s mouth, but bent and crooked. Starscream would accuse him of heroism, but not like this. “But I know trouble when I see it, and you don’t want anything good for Cybertron, or us.”

“You know _nothing_ about me,” Megatron says, low and intense. “I stand for Cybertron.”

“You want to tear it down,” Skyfire says.

Silence between the two of them.

“We are a poor fit,” Megatron says.

“We are.”

“You won’t give me back to Starscream if I ask.”

“No,” Skyfire says.

“Then I will convince you to help me,” Megatron says. “In my future, when energon becomes a valuable commodity, the Council ruling from Iacon begins to act: they begin to push for functionalist stances, rationing fuel for those who are useful, and they neglect those who are not useful or rich. The seeds of the war that I spoke of grow into this: systematical inequality, taken to horrific extents.”

“I believe you,” Skyfire says, soft.

“Then why won’t you act?”

“Why won’t you tell me about happens at Tarn? - You won’t,” Skyfire says a beat later. “You’re still trying to keep us focused on helping you instead of others.”

“I _cannot move.”_

“Free you, and follow you,” Skyfire murmurs. It’s never that simple.

“You are stubborn.”

“I’m scared for what you’re doing to Starscream.”

“What about you?”

Skyfire sets Megatron down, just so he can think without his weight in his hands.

“What about yourself, shuttle?” Megatron says. “You can’t be so blind to have missed the signs.”

“Wait here,” Skyfire says, getting up. “I need to talk to Starscream.”

//

“Back already?” Starscream says. He’s perched on a bench, arms crossed, optics narrowed.

“Starscream - “

“I’m not afraid of him. Why are _you?”_

_Because he wants to destroy everything._

“I’m a coward,” Skyfire says, soft, realizing it in himself.

“No you’re not,” Starscream snaps, getting up. “What’s the real reason! It’s not because he can turn into a dangerous soldier, and it’s not because of what he wants to do. What _aren’t you telling me?”_

“Starscream - “

“You’re not petty enough to hate him for interrupting our trip, so just tell me already!”

“He’s changing you!”

_Oh._

Skyfire catches himself, finding himself stepping forward, looming over Starscream like he shouldn’t. He forces a step back.

“You fight with everyone,” he goes on, because Starscream somehow hasn’t said anything. “You’re loud, and angry, and you don’t let anyone treat you like you’re less. But you’re so hyper-sensitive that you don’t trust anyone. He makes that worse, and I don’t like seeing you like that.”

When he looks at Starscream again, Starscream’s quivering.

“That’s _it?!”_

“You’re important to me!”

“Important enough to throw away Cybertron for?”

“Yes!”

“You’re an idiot!” Starscream says, and he lunges up and kisses Skyfire.

Automatic reflex has Skyfire’s arms on Starscream’s, and then he’s holding on tight and kissing back. Why haven’t they done this before? Why hasn’t he realized - ?

“Idiot,” Starscream repeats, field open and fond and angry. “Where did you put him?”

Skyfire sighs, kissing him again before he lets go.

“I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Starscream, promise me that you’ll talk to me and keep me in the loop with this. We found Megatron together, and we’re both going to figure this out together.”

“Just that?”

“Yes, just that! Please, Starscream - “

“I promise. Where is he?”

Skyfire sighs and lets go of Starscream. “I’ll bring him here. Wait.”

//

A kiss, and they haven’t even started courting. Skyfire’s emotions are a riot as he picks Megatron up, cradling him in his hands. It is so like Starscream that he announced his intentions while insulting him, without even acknowledging them.

Wait, that’s not entirely fair to Starscream. There is a chance that he doesn’t know the rituals, or that Skyfire’s missed a memo when it comes to the interpersonal relationships of Vosian seekers.

He’d talk to Starscream about it, or ask questions discreetly, except that Starscream’s too focused on Megatron to be helpful, and anyone else would instantly figure out that he’s referring to Starscream, and he’s not willing to endure that.

Except - 

He looks down at the gun in his hands.

It’s a silly idea, but... it can’t hurt.

“Excuse me,” Skyfire says.

“I am listening,” Megatron says. It’s easier because he can’t see him, and he doesn’t know what’s happened.

“Would you happen to know what the courting rituals in Vos are?”

A moment passes, then two. Skyfire feels embarrassment creep over him, but he refuses to say anything that could make this worse.

“Unfortunately yes. Is this some kind of test, Skyfire?”

“No! It’s not, ah. I just want to know what they are.”

“Capture Starscream in the air and tell him what you want. I will not speak on this further.”

“... That’s probably for the best,” Skyfire says, and he hurries on to Starscream, attempting to put the images from his mind.

“About time!” Starscream says, and if Skyfire didn’t know him so well it would hurt. Starscream’s optics are on the gun, and Skyfire gives Megatron up without a word.

It’s almost a relief to be ignored so thoroughly: Starscream’s pulled the lenses back over his optics, and he’s replaced Megatron in the scanner. His wings are quivering with barely restrained excitement, a herald of interesting discoveries.

“I love you,” Skyfire says, deciding he doesn’t care if Megatron hears.

It’s a revelation: he means it. He’ll lie for Starscream, live for him, admire him. He worries for him, and not just because of the trouble Starscream tends to create for everyone around him.

His spark feels warm and bubbly, and it’s not a medical problem.

“Is this _really_ the time?” Starscream asks, voice higher than it normally pitches.

“You kissed me,” Skyfire says.

“And I’ll do it again! But later! Skyfire, this is important!”

Skyfire muffles a laugh, then finds a seat, content at last to watch Starscream work.

//

Even youth cannot dull Starscream’s brilliance: it’s only a matter of cycles until he’s worked out a way to nullify the energies saturating Megatron’s frame, and with Skyfire’s help, not long after that until he has a device that can do so.

Megatron’s t-cog engages this time, unpacking and executing the procedure that unfolds his frame, pulling mass from his subspace. It’s effortless, not a circuit out of place, and he can feel the steady thrum of energies where they should be.

His conduit to his primary energy source is untouched, this time. There is no painful crack, and he reaches out, siphoning power to himself just to be certain he can.

Starscream is staring at him with an expression he hasn’t seen on his face in a long time - awe.

Threat assessment is quick to assure him that nothing in this place is a threat. Starscream is woefully unarmored, with no weapons tucked into his frame. His frame hasn’t yet been replaced or reinforced, and there aren’t even rudimentary signal blockers in place - but then, why would there be? This Starscream won’t see real combat for centuries.

Skyfire is a different case: he possesses exactly the frame that Megatron will fight, millions of stellar cycles from now. He’s fast, armored, and large enough for any blow to have weight behind it. He isn’t a threat only because he’s a known quality.

The rest of the room is an assortment of lab equipment, specialized tools, and luxury items. Wealth, if they could recognize the excess of peacetime. The bright lights alone are noteworthy.

“Have I met your expectations, Starscream?” He asks. Power is flowing into him, and it ceases when he closes the link. The Autobot’s little trick has done him more favors than harm, now that he is free.

“Oh, _yes,”_ Starscream says, optics bright. He catches himself in the next line: “That cannon is overkill. It has to be a nuisance to walk around with. How do you fit all of your mass into your subspace? You didn’t transform, you _exploded_ out of yourself!”

“Heh,” Megatron can’t resist. Starscream’s enthusiasm can override everything else. “You’re in luck, Starscream. I intend to pay a visit to my creators before this venture is over. At this point in the timeline they’ll be easy to find. You can address your questions to them directly.”

“Would that provoke a paradox?” Skyfire asks, and Megatron tilts his head up to look him in the optics.

“Better to provoke it now. I do not _fear_ death.”

He does not believe that meeting himself will end reality. If time itself is to stop him, it must fight him personally.

_If only he knew where Optimus Prime was._

He doesn’t miss the way Skyfire and Starscream exchange looks. The buzz of unshielded comms is as obvious as a shout.

“What about Tarn?” Skyfire asks.

“There is a more efficient way to save it and Vos alike,” Megatron says, deciding to be magnanimous to his saviors. “And for that we need the Constructicons, and to visit Iacon.”

“I want details,” Starscream says, optics finally narrowing.

Fine. Let him believe he holds the advantage.

“In mere stellar cycles a sabotage effort in Tarn’s primary spaceport will succeed - too well. It will be destroyed, along with quite a few important visiting clients-to-be.” History lesson after history lesson. He doesn’t mention how precarious Cybertron’s position in the universe is, in this era. How multiple mercenary groups had turned to piracy instead of honest work.

Cybertron will _never_ be a comfortable neighbor, when it comes to galactic affairs. A politely unacknowledged tool, at best. It would do Cybertron much good to realize this, and act accordingly - but what else was he created for?

“We had time to repair you,” Skyfire says, voice getting steadily louder. “We could have waited - “

“No,” Starscream says for him, optics glinting. “Who are these Constructicons? What’s in Iacon? Tell me _everything,_ Megatron.”

“The Constructicons are a small group of mechs who specialize in architecture and warfare. They have survived from before there were Decepticons. Iacon contains my most loyal follower and proof of alien meddling in our affairs. Starscream. The Constructicons are our passage into Iacon. Iacon is our passage to the total attention of Cybertron. Will Skyfire fly?”

Starscream looks to Skyfire, but there’s no need: Skyfire nods, expression grim.

//

“Give it up, Optimus Prime. I _know_ you don’t have Megatron.” Starscream waves his hand, easily dismissing all of Optimus’ previous posturing. He leans in, restraining a smirk. “The real question is, where _did_ you send him?”

Not that it matters. Without Megatron, he’s won. The Autobots have unknowingly handed him the greatest of victories - but, ah, he would like to know where Megatron’s gone. It would be inconvenient for Megatron to reappear and disrupt some sensitive operation.

How odd, Optimus Prime looks bothered.

“Very well,” Optimus Prime says with a mighty sigh, vents flicking open. “Megatron was transported through time. We do not know when he landed, and have been unable to track him as of yet.”

Inconvenient already!

“Why would you morons intentionally weaponize time travel? No one understands how it works! Do you _want_ to risk our _entire reality_ for the sake of one victory?”

It feels wonderful to take the moral high ground over the oh-so-holy Optimus Prime. Oh, he’s made his own mistakes, miscalculated certain sacrifices, but to his credit he’s never tried to tamper with the very fabric of space-time.

“It was an accident.”

“Of course it was. You really need to put a leash on your renegade before he really does destroy us all.”

// (and that's all I wrote, sorry!)


End file.
